A Hybrid walks into a toy store
by sicklyscribe
Summary: drabble set between episodes 1x19 and 1x20 explaining how a certain item ended up in Hope's nursery.


_I think you can tell by the first sentence that this started out as a 'omg what-if' conversation with some friends, but it quickly turned into a full on fluff session. This is the first time I'd ever written fanfiction just-because and it totally took me by surprise. Still a little pissed that I jumped on the FF bandwagon, but that doesn't mean I can't share this. Set between episodes 19 and 20 of season 1._

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He went to like a little indie children's toy store in the quarter and at first he was like 'no, I've got to get out of here' because he saw parents and children walking around and playing. One of them toddles into him and nearly falls over. "Sorry mister!" the little boy says, and his mother apologizes to him. He's too shocked to react for several moments. By the time he says, "Oh, no worries," it's under his breath and the woman and child have moved on.

He was thinking of maybe getting Aesop's fables and a few classic germanic/slavic fairytales, but some of the newer stories catch his eye. He finds himself thumbing through books in a 'classics' section that, to him, were quite the novelty. He stays away from stories with a 'big bad wolf', for obvious reasons, and ends up impulsively gathering a story about a bat and one about a raccoon under his arm, along with the stories that _he_ considered classics.

He had already been to several antique shops, finding toys. It didn't seem right to him that Hope would play with some primary-colored plastic-molded commercial product. Not _his_ child.

Something catches his eye on one of the toy shelves, though. He had already found a teddy bear, slightly worn but still soft, to put into her crib. Still, he couldn't help but pick it up. For the first time since he entered the store he smiled. The newness and softness of the artificial fur even comforted _him_, the little creature's shaggy wild colors and wise yellow eyes were irresistibly endearing.

He went to the cashier, books and stuffed animal in hand. He set them all down gently, and tried to put a casual expression on his face.

As the young woman rung up his purchases, she smiled at him and said, "Looks like you're going to make some little one very happy!"

_I can try,_ he thought, knowing how everyone around him – including himself — thought it would be futile – _fatal,_ even. His eyes welled dangerously. She grabbed for the stuffed animal in such a irreverent way he felt as though she was insulting his family. In response to her comment, he made himself nod. He handed her a credit card and she gave him a bag. Surreptitiously he rearranged the books so that they were no longer squishing the toy.

"Have a nice day!" the woman said with stale enthusiasm. He was already making a beeline for the door. His ears caught two children in the back of the store pleading with their father to get them ice cream. He didn't know how these people, how these objects, made him feel, but he knew he wasn't ready for it. He couldn't say he didn't like it.

As he got into his SUV and set the bag on the passenger side floor, he thought about what the mother of his child was doing right now. She was probably surrounded by her mutts, not to mention hoards of mosquitoes, in the bayou. Soon she would hear about Kieran's death. She would probably come to the funeral. Whenever she was around, it seemed, she did nothing but irritate him, but he felt anxious having her and her growing belly so far away from him. He was glad of the excuse to see her again.

He took the small wolf stuffed animal out of the plastic bag and put it in the front seat next to him. He hoped his daughter would like it. Honestly, though, he'd needed it more than she probably ever would. He needed to know it would there with her when she slept - protective, comforting, _familial_. He had never wanted for anything so selfless in his life than his desire to give his child, his daughter, his – his littlest wolf – the beautiful life she deserved.

_I can try,_ he thought again, visions of past and present and likely future Quarter violence playing in his head. Violence that he himself had started, in many cases. He didn't deserve what he was getting, he knew. He also knew it would be his biggest weakness. And he knew that nothing could ever take it away from him, not while he was still alive and undead.


End file.
